


Good Noodle

by Lurlur



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, BDSM, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ficlet, I promise there's no sexual content in here, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Reward Charts, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), behaviour correction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/pseuds/Lurlur
Summary: Crowley is refusing to listen to Aziraphale, provoking him into issuing a punishment. It's clearly not what Crowley had in mind.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 174





	Good Noodle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callus_Ran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callus_Ran/gifts), [D20Owlbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/gifts).



> I blame Callus Ran and D20Owlbear fully for this.

“Crowley, if you’re not careful with that glass you’re going to spill wine on the sofa,” Aziraphale says with a sniff.

Scoffing, Crowley takes a mouthful of his drink and drapes his arm even more carelessly over the back of the sofa.

“It’s fine, angel,” he says, grinning, “you should worry less.”

Less than a minute later, there’s another close call. Crowley gets over-excited and gestures with both hands as he tries to make his point about walruses, or moustaches, or The Beatles, Aziraphale isn’t sure any more. He catches himself just in time, but it’s enough to make Aziraphale tut.

“I really must insist that you take more care. That sofa is an antique.”

Crowley makes a performance of acting surprised and looking the sofa over as if he’s appraising it.

“Antique, is it? I never knew!” He’s being deliberately vexing, Aziraphale can hear it in his voice. “I’ve only been sitting on it for 220 years and all this time it’s been getting more valuable under my arse?”

“I just don’t want wine stains on it, Crowley,” Aziraphale insists. “There’s no need to be such a prig about it.”

Crowley snorts at that but Aziraphale can see that there’s more than just laughter in his eyes, there’s challenge and mischief, the kind of combination that often leads to bad decisions.

Sure enough, the next time that Crowley gets carried away he doesn’t even try to keep the wine from sloshing out of his glass. It splashes onto the throw blanket and soaks into the worn patches of the leather sofa.

“Oops,” Crowley giggles, utterly unrepentant.

“That was entirely preventable, if only you’d listened to me,” Aziraphale begins, letting his voice grow stern and cold. “I asked you to be careful several times over and you made fun. I’m afraid I have no choice but to punish you.”

Crowley’s grin grows indecently large as he leans forward to place his glass on the coffee table. Aziraphale keeps his features stony as Crowley slithers out of his seat and steps up to straddle Aziraphale’s knees, moving in closer to put a hand on the back of his desk chair.

“Oh, a punishment? Sounds _terrible,_ ” Crowley croons, his breath is wine-sweet and hot against Aziraphale’s cheek. He’s confident, clearly thinking that he’s goaded Aziraphale into giving him what he wants.

“Yes, you’ve been disobedient, dismissive, and rude, resulting in damage to my sofa. You were given plenty of chances to avoid this.”

Crowley hisses at the edge of hearing, apparently delighted at the new direction this evening is taking. Letting his hands settle on Crowley’s hips, Aziraphale looks up into his golden eyes and gently pushes him away.

“Go sit on the floor in front of the sofa, facing me.” Aziraphale’s instructions are followed with an eagerness that speaks volumes about the sort of punishment Crowley is anticipating.

Once Crowley is in the indicated position, Aziraphale makes a show of shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves. Crowley is practically panting at the sight, want and desire rolling off him in waves that might have distracted Aziraphale if he were less annoyed.

“You’ve been very naughty, Crowley,” he says, calm and cool.

“Yep, naughty, wicked demon, me,” Crowley agrees, leaning forward in his eagerness.

“I want you to remember that you’ve brought this on yourself, that this all could have been avoided if you had only done as I asked.”

Crowley’s grin is now indecently wide, showing more teeth than his mouth ought to contain. Aziraphale can feel the weight of his attention and relishes it for a moment before snapping his fingers and summoning the form of Crowley’s punishment.

Gratifyingly, Crowley’s grin falters and fades immediately. He blinks hard as some of the colour drains from his cheeks.

“Not that, angel, please!” says Crowley, his voice straining. “That’s not what I wanted!”

“Isn’t that rather the point of punishment?” Aziraphale asks, smug.

Crowley rises to his knees, his hands on the coffee table, a level of desperation that Aziraphale hadn’t expected is visible on his face.

“Please not that, angel, I’m sorry!” He turns, snapping his fingers to vanish the wine stain. “Look, all gone! It never happened!”

Aziraphale shakes his head slowly, sadly.

“It did happen, though. I asked you to be careful and you ignored me. Twice, as I recall.” Aziraphale carefully peels two of the gold star stickers off the sheet of card. “Rewards are for good noodles, Crowley, you know that.” Aziraphale pauses to look at the reward chart in his hands, shaking his head sadly. “What a shame, you’d been very doing well this week.”

“’M sorry, Aziraphale,” Crowley mumbles, staring at the floor.

Aziraphale vanishes the good noodle chart and gives Crowley his full attention once more.

“Come here,” he says, patting his lap. Once Crowley has settled against his chest, Aziraphale holds him close and strokes his back. “Hush, love. You can earn them back if you want them, you know you can do it.”

Crowley nods, his distress waning. Aziraphale presses a kiss into his hair and holds him for as long as he needs. Time would tell if the lesson had truly been learnt.


End file.
